Come in With the Rain
by Wholocklolly
Summary: Sherlock takes Molly to France to meet his grandparents after they have been together for nearly a year. Things go especially well when he recalls Molly's love for horses... A one-shot sexy holiday gift for my bff Chandler! Happy Holidays everyone!


**A/N:** **This is for my goober friend channyfaith who appreciates the Sherlolly pron and gave me the prompt to write this. Also, just for reference, it's pretty much based off of this picture of Benedict Cumberbatch: . /tumblr_m6gm2wA4SI1rxy8woo1_ **

**Anyways, hope you all enjoy and Happy Holidays!**

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They had been together for nearly a year, and Sherlock had insisted that Molly meet his grandparents, since he was not on speaking terms with either of his parents. Molly had initially thought it to be some petty feud, as Sherlock often operated in that manner, until he had explained the situation in full detail.

Sherlock had grown up in the care of his grandparents after his father abused him so severely that his mother sent him out of country to live with them. So, naturally, he was extremely close to them. Victoria and Pierre Holmes lived in France. Sherlock spoke the language fluently, and often frequented visits there, even now.

His childhood was much harder than most children's, but the freedom of the manor his grandparents resided in actively allowed him quite a liberal adolescence. He grew up dissecting frogs and insects and other animals to his little heart's content, until of course he entered the older years and was poked fun at for his interest in the sciences.

For a few years he was the weird lanky kid that never had a girlfriend or ever paid any attention to girls (or men), and was still somehow strangely attractive. He received prestigious violin and language lessons until he graduated from school and entered college.

At that point, he moved back to London and lived there for another few years on his own, still never befriending anyone until of course he had met Lestrade and decided he wished to be a Consulting Detective, rather than a government worker like big brother Mycroft.

"Did I mention the horse back riding?" Sherlock said with a crooked grin after they had taken dinner in the lavish dining hall. Molly had been completely overwhelmed by the sheer stature and wealth of the manner, but had needed to quickly close her mouth so Sherlock could properly introduce her to his grandparents.

It was obvious from the nervous chew on the corner of his lip that Sherlock was very interested in his grandparent's opinion of Molly, and that made her even more jittery. But despite their extremely posh exterior (much like Sherlock, she supposed), Victoria and Pierre were extremely kind to Molly. She ended up enjoying their company very much.

Eventually though, they retired to the den for some reading and television, so Sherlock took Molly for a walk around the grounds, pointing and little things like the fencing station, his old treehouse where he had evidently had his first wank to some fake-breasted model from his uncle's magazine, and eventually, the stables.

Molly had gaped and looked back at Sherlock like he was some Greek God, and sometimes, she couldn't really tell the difference. Especially now. She hadn't noticed his clothes earlier that day, but now she did. Dressed in a short grey plaid coat and with a white jumper underneath that he most likely borrowed from John, he looked extremely trim, and obviously equestrian ready. And in that moment, Molly was positive she loved him, if she wasn't at all sure before. He had remembered her love for horses.

Molly pulled him in for a kiss, and he squeezed her hand and smiled, leading her to the stables. Molly the sky was a dark, stormy grey, but ignored the signs of an ensuing storm as they came to a halt in front of a sleek chestnut coloured mare with a large white patch on her chest.

"This is Émilie," Sherlock murmured and let go of Molly's hand. The mare nickered in recognition, and Molly smiled. "She was mine when I was a boy." Molly watched on fondly as Sherlock rubbed her cheeks and nose and the underside of her throat, nuzzling his head against Émilie's.

He opened her stall after procuring a set of reins and slid it over her head with gentleness she had never before seen coming from Sherlock. He soothed his fingers through her main and fastened the saddle on her back, drawing her out of the stall with a quiet click of his tongue. It was obvious Sherlock and this mare shared quite a bond, and it made Molly practically froth at the mouth, she was so pleased.

Sherlock had tried to insist they both ride on Émilie, considering it was Molly's first time riding, but Molly wanted to experience it herself. She walked along the stalls, before she found the prettiest horse she had ever seen. It was a deep cream coloured stallion with a flowing black main and equally as dark hooves. It nickered when she came close, and Molly grinned in delight.

"Spirit," Sherlock said, suddenly at her elbow. She was past being frightened by him when he suddenly showed up behind her and spoke. Émilie quietly pawed at the floor, obviously eager to run. "For obvious reasons." she could practically hear the eye roll in his voice, but Molly smiled. "My cousin Scarlett named him when she was young."

Molly opened the stall very carefully and stroked the underside of Spirit's throat very gentle. He seemed pleased by the action, and gazed at her through heavy dark lids. "I want him," Molly said, and Sherlock huffed a little.

"He does not like me very much. Choose another," Sherlock said impatiently, sounding annoyed, and she threw a dark look over her shoulder at him. He knew that look, and with a small grumble went to retrieve the saddle and reins.

Once Spirit was saddled up (all the while Sherlock was fastening him, he had attempted to bite and kick him, much to Molly's giggling pleasure), Molly led him out of the stable after Sherlock and Émilie, towards an expanse of trees. She had a little difficulty in climbing onto the stallion's back, but managed after a few tries. Holding the reins firmly in her hand, she clicked her tongue and Spirit lurched forward. Sherlock watched her warily, seeming worried for a moment, before he climbed onto Émilie's back and padded after her.

Once Molly had gotten the hang of it (she had always been a fast learner), she pranced along happily on Spirit's back, until she heard deep rumbling overhead. She looked up, just as a few water drops fell with a plop onto her cheeks. She winced a little and glanced at Sherlock, whose gaze was also directed towards the sky.

He looked down and cast a look at her, just as lightning sounded overhead and it began to immediately pour. "There's a barn ahead!" Sherlock called to her.

Molly grinned, even though she was becoming quickly soaked by the downpour. "Race you!" she announced and Sherlock was confused for a moment but she saw his eyes darken with a hint of a challenge as she took off ahead of him. Sherlock didn't take long to follow, hot on her literal and proverbial tail.

She was sure she would overtake him, but then she reached the barn and practically launched herself off the horse and to the grass, touching the barn with her hand. She heard a growl behind her and she heard him hop off the horse. He grabbed the reins of both horses and towed them inside, before he 'accidentally' knocked Molly to the ground, falling on top of her.

"That was not a fair race," Sherlock growled deep in his throat and Molly bit her lip to suppress a moan. He was soaking and wet an on top of her, in the hay.

Molly didn't say anything as he slowly peeled off his coat, and then the borrowed woollen jumper. Sherlock then leant down and nipped at her jaw, sliding his hands up under Molly's own oversized jumper, tugging it over her head.

He slowly undressed them, and then very gently laid her down in the hay, kissing her and nudging apart her legs. Molly sighed and moaned into his mouth, parting her thighs to allow him to settle between them. She felt his erection at her inner thigh and wondered how on Earth he could become arouse so quickly, but she was already soaked for him, rain aside.

Sherlock very slowly, very gently entered her, cupping the back of her thigh as well as the nape of her neck, staring deeply into her eyes as he slowly began to move. The actions were intense but so loving, especially for someone usually so cold and reserved as Sherlock. She wrapped her arms his neck and drew his lips to hers as she sighed into his mouth.

"Love you," she whispered, a little breathless, and he returned the sentiment as he nuzzled his nose against her pulse point.

They carried on like this for about a half an hour, their caresses incredibly affectionate as they made love, the sound of the rain pouring down on the tin roof overhead incredibly romantic, or at least Molly thought so. Eventually though Sherlock picked up his speed a little bit and brought them both to their craved orgasm, holding her as they nearly simultaneously orgasmed.

Panting a little, Sherlock laid out his coat and brought her into his arms, kissing the nape of her neck and nuzzling it affectionately. They stayed like that for a little while longer, before Molly began to shiver, despite the comfort of his body heat.

Sherlock crawled up despite Molly's protests and gathered some hay and old wood. As Molly picked hay out of her hair, he set a few stray rocks in a circle in the middle of the barn and managed to blow a few sparks into flames. He took the blankets off of Spirit and Émilie's backs and laid one out by the flickering flame.

Collecting Molly in his arms and bringing her over to the fireside, they both sat down and he wrapped the blanket around them. She cuddled up into his lap, and they laid by the flame getting warm as they waited for the rain to stop.


End file.
